


Regrettable

by Syifrae



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, They Get There In The End, they have an unfortunate first meeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syifrae/pseuds/Syifrae
Summary: No one had any choice over what they said or where they appeared, they just showed up from one day to the next; the first words your soulmate would ever say to you.Bucky’s appeared on his torso when he was thirteen and were a source of amusement and pride. Tony’s came when he was six and he hated them, they made his mother cry.No one had any choice over what they said or where they appeared, but Tony was going to hide his and Bucky, well he got the feeling that they weren’t quite so funny anymore.





	1. Bucky's Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first submission for the Winteriron Bang and I was so lucky to have two wonderful artists who's works you should go check out here:
> 
>  
> 
> [Shirleh](http://shirleh.tumblr.com/post/151090703044/this-is-my-art-for-buckys-hydras-fanfic)  
> [Boredbeingregular](http://boredbeingregular.tumblr.com/post/151113293195/for-this-years-winteriron-bang-fanart-for-the-fic)

There was no way of knowing when the words would show up, no specified date of time, no last toll of midnight on your eighteenth birthday to signal their appearance. They just showed up from one day to the next. For some it could be as early as hours after their birth, the latest recording known was that of a eighty year old somewhere in Europe having woken to the words one day and having them spoken the very next. Scientists had tried to find an explanation for them, a way to try and predict when they would appear or when they would be spoken. 

For some they never came, for others they had multiple different words. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but people could be cruel, they would whisper and shun those that were different, though it could hardly be their fault. It wasn’t even like those people were necessarily different either seeing as there were many happy couples who lacked words or many platonic friendships between people who had each other’s words. 

The words would either appear or they would not, no one had any choice over them, what they said or where they appeared. 

That didn’t stop Winifred Barnes from shouting out and whacking him over the head when she saw him showing his brand new words off proudly to his younger sisters and Steve. 

“You put that away right this instant, James Buchanan Barnes! Goodness gracious, I don’t want you showing that off to anyone d’you hear me? And don’t you dare go repeating those words, I don’t care what you soulmate says, I’ve raised you better than that!” 

Bucky had felt thoroughly chastised, going pink in the cheeks and shoving his shirt back down to hide the elegant scrawl over his torso. 

“ ‘M sorry Ma, I just wanted ta show them I’d got my words. Becca’s had hers for ages an she was saying I might not ever get any an I just wanted to show her I got some now too.” He mumbled to the floor. 

Winifred sighed and pulled her only son into her arms. “I know, I’m sorry for shouting. We’re all really happy for you darling, aren’t we girls?” She said sharply looking at the two daughters, Rebecca, who had been smiling when he was being told off was now looking quite bored of the whole situation. 

“Yes, Mom.” She huffed as Beth nodded her head, too young to really know what was going on. 

Winifred turned back to her son, frankly she was quite surprised that he had words, she had thought the closeness between her son and their neighbour’s son, Steve, was a sure sign that he was destined not to have any. Though there was nothing romantic about the relationship between them yet, seeing as they were both barely teenagers and too young for that sort of thing, she had felt sure that their bond would be strong enough to warrant words if they were ever to have any. Perhaps their bond was one of platonic friendship and the words on her son was for a romantic soulmate instead, the idea made her heart skip as Bucky would be lucky to find two people who would love him and be loyal to him in the way that he already was with Steve. 

“There is nothing to be ashamed about for getting your words, James, only I wish you soulmate’s mother would wash their mouth out. I don’t want you to be setting a bad example is all. So, just keep your words covered for now, at least until you’re older. For me?” She smiled.

“Okay Ma!” Bucky agreed bounding off outside to go play with Steve once more. She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he was going to show some of his classmates his new words, she only prayed that their parents didn't start complaining to her. 

 

Outside Bucky half ran half skipped down the street, slowing down only ever so slightly so that it wouldn’t seem he was dong it too purposefully, or else Stevie would start complaining that Bucky was going to slow and babying him on purpose. 

He stopped at the mouth of a side street, pulling his best friend in close so that they could look at the words again without any adults seeing or tattling on them. 

“Wow, that’s real neat writing, Buck.” Steve said, reaching a hand out and then pausing inches away from the skin, looking at the younger boy for permission. Bucky smiled in a wide grin and gave a sharp nod. 

“Maybe they’re really rich and got to go t’a private school were they have handwriting lessons.” He grinned as Steve traced the words.

“No way, they’d be posh if they were rich and that ain’t posh.” Steve poked at his stomach. “You might just have got a sailor who happens to have neat writing, ‘cause whoever they are they sure to swear like one.”

Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the smile that felt prominently fixed on his face now. No matter what his Ma said he was going to wear his words with pride, though perhaps it would be best to hide them from some people, like his grandma and old Mrs Fairway across the street. Taking one last look at them before straightening his shirt and going to the comic book store Bucky took careful note of each letter and memorised the neat print:

“Shit that was a close- oh fuck” 

 

~~~~~~

 

While at one time they were his pried and joy, they could now become a slight hinderance. 

Bucky was still excited, ecstatic even at the prospect of finally meeting the person who would say those words to him, he had imagined a million and one scenarios in which they might meet and someone would say that. Maybe they bumped into each other and almost accidentally spilt coffee on one another, or maybe it had been raining and Bucky stepped in between a car and a dame to stop her from getting splashed in the puddles. 

However, as much as Bucky would have loved to meet his soulmate, he was a bit of an adventurer and he wanted a taste of life as soon as he could get his hands on it. Only sometimes when his dates saw he had words, they would back off, sometimes it wasn’t so much that he had them but what they said that made the ladies uncomfortable. It got to the point where Bucky almost considered not taking his shirt off when he took the ladies home to avoid their awkward glances or poorly made excuses. 

Still, some women, and when he was feeling particularly reckless some men, didn’t seem to care at all, and those were the dates Bucky liked best. 

 

~~~~~~

As he buttoned up his uniform Bucky took a moment to pause over the words he had seen so many times before. Words he had counted as a blessing since it meant there was someone out there who was waiting for him just as he was waiting for them. 

The words that had seemed like the beginning of a funny story, one that was fit to be in one of his little sisters’ romance novels, was now looking more and more damning as every day passed. 

Today was the day he was shipping off, the 107th as he had proudly announced to Steve just the evening before. Bucky had slowly been coming to terms with the reality of what his words may mean, going into war, especially one that seemed as bloody as this one, his words looked less like the beginning of a story and more like the near end of one. 

How tragic would his life have to be if he were to meet his soulmate only to get shot down or blown up or captured by the enemy only moments later?

The were pessimistic thoughts, Steve had insisted, the world couldn’t be so cruel to one as kind as him, he had argued. Steve himself had been over the moon when he had finally gotten his, as bizarre as they had been (“Uh-huh, on my left. Got it”). 

As much of an optimist as Steve had been about it, Bucky still couldn’t help but feel the harsh reality of what his words signified. Whatever happened, him meeting his soulmate would not lead to any romantic moment like the novels tried to tell you there would be. Especially not in an active war zone. 

~~~~~~

 

He had been surprised, somewhat pleasantly so at first when he didn’t hear his words right before being captured by Hydra. That was, until he realised that if they we’re spoken now, there was a chance his situation was going to get a whole lot worse before it got better. 

When Stevie had come for him though, when his little scrappy best friend showed up, bigger and stronger than any man Bucky had ever seen before he allowed himself to hope, he allowed himself to maybe believe Steve had been right, maybe there was a kinder story behind the words. After all if he had survived this hell there wasn’t much that could be worse.

His bones ached and his skin itched all over, he felt so exhausted and his lungs seemed unable to take a full breath but as he escaped the compound that had kept him for so long, Bucky felt a hopeful glimmer of happiness. A glimmer that seemed to grow the longer he looked at Steve and the ridiculous outfit he was wearing on those USO posters. 

As he set off into new adventure and danger with the Howling Commandoes and Steve, sorry, Captain America (and yes, Bucky teased him relentlessly about both the name and the booty shorts), at his side he felt as though there was more of a chance than ever that he may make it though this gruelling war, he may find his soulmate and they may just have a chance at a life together.

 

~~~~~~

 

As he fell through the clod mountain air, whipping past so quickly he could hardly hear his own screams Bucky though again about his words. Maybe he’d be saved. Maybe he wasn’t going to die at the bottom of this ravine. The thought was a small comfort to him, but as the ground approached it didn’t seem as though rescue was coming. 

 

~~~~~~

 

He hated to take his shirt off now. He hated the sight of the arm that he had been forced to carry, the arm that had been the cause of so much pain and death and blood. No matter how Steve begged and pleaded for him to get the thing checked out by Stark, Bucky flat out refused to let anyone go near the thing. Not to mention the ugly scarring that even his version of the super soldier serum couldn’t quite heal covering half of his chest. 

 

Steve hadn’t dared to try and force him into anything though, he simply resorted to his disappointed or sullen look and moped around for a few hours before finding something new to try and get Bucky to talk or smile or feel moderately more human. Bucky was being exceptionally hard to deal with, he knew, but it was difficult to muster up the energy to do anything when the weight of seventy years of assassinations, torture and brainwashing were crushing down upon him. 

No matter what though, Bucky was happy for Steve, he had finally found his mate. And though he had tried to hide it from Bucky at first, he had regained enough memories to know that, while Steve was friendly with most people, Sam wilson was special. It was Bucky who brought the whole subject up in the first place, sitting at breakfast one morning and sipping on a glass of orange juice as Wilson drank straight from the carton (the animal, oh the whipping he’d’ve gotten from his Ma if he ever dared do such a thing). 

“So, what’s the story behind the whole Steve bein’ on your left.” Bucky smirked a little as Sam choked on his juice, letting a little bit dribble down his chin and onto his shirt as he coughed and gasped for breath. “Ya know, you can keep that carton now. ’S all yours.” 

Sam wiped his face down with the corner of his shirt, still wide eyed and a little red in the face.  
“How’d you know? My words are on my thigh, you haven’t seen my thighs.” He asked, perplexed, and looking mildly freaked out. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. ’S just a guess, but now that you’ve confirmed it you gotta spill.” The ex-assassin said leaning forward. 

Steve walked in just as Sam was finishing explaining, seeing Bucky smiling and almost giggling was such a relief. “What’s got you so cheery this morning?” he asked, feeling hopeful that today would be one of Bucky’s good days. 

“You’re a little punk, Stevie. Harassin’ a man on his mornin’ jog. ‘Specially since you ain’t even that fast.” 

At this Sam suddenly looked very interested, and he soon became the judge in their little competition down at the gym as Steve and Bucky competed to run circles around each other until Sam got bored and they collapsed from exhaustion. 

It was later that evening, after eating more pizza in one sitting than Bucky had ever seen in his life before, that Steve tentatively brought up Bucky’s own words. 

“You know if you met yours yet?” He questioned softly, looking down at his shoulder were Sam had fallen asleep. 

“I got no idea.” He swallowed. “I’m scared Steve. What if they were one of my targets? What if I saw ‘em on a mission in the 60s and now they’ve gone on and lived a life without me? What if they were back from our time and I only got a few years left to find ‘em before they go an’ kick the bucket?” The thoughts had come unbidden to him during the nights after he started to regain memories of his kills, they swirled around his head and kept him awake until the little hours. 

 

“Buck, you can’t think like that,” Steve began, but Bucky soon cut him off. 

“Alternative’s worse though. What if they are still out there, anyone who’s soul bonded to me has got to be some sort of a monster or some poor bugger who don’t deserve getting stuck with the likes of me.” The warm settled feeling he had had just before had turned back into that squiggling anxiety that he hated but couldn’t seem to shake. Getting up he walked straight to his room, Steve didn't deserve to be weighted down with his problems, he was finally happy and settled, he had his soulmate and a strange sort of family/team.

“No! Buck, wait-“ Steve attempted to get up but was blocked by Sam’s weight draped over him and the empty pizza boxes scattered around. 

For a few days after that he stayed mostly to himself, wanting to avoid Steve and his lectures or his disappointed face again. He must have gotten the message though, because neither if them spoke to him about his words or soulmates again, and though Sam seemed to be giving him that ‘you need to talk to someone about this’ look, Buck was grateful to them for not pushing the matter. Besides Sam gave him that look almost everyday anyway, he kept helpfully leaving therapists cards and flyers for VA meetings around ‘just in case’. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Bucky hardly interacts with the Avengers, he’s still extremely wary around strangers, not only because of who he is and what he did but he doesn’t want to run the risk that one of them might be his soulmate. In fact he only ever seems to come up to the common area when only Steve, Sam, Nat or Thor are around (the first three because he’s spoken to them before and Thor because he’s already met his match). 

Despite this, he till regarded the tower as his home and while he may not be able to say he is amicable with the other residents he doesn’t wish them any harm. So when the tower seems to be under some kind of takeover, Bucky does his best to defend it with the weapons he finds and fashions along the way (seeing as he was still not trusted enough to have any of his own, he simply took them from the would-be-invaders once he had dealt with them). 

Another reason for his rather vicious defence of his new home was the fact that these men bore Hydra’s insignia and they seemed to concentrate in numbers around him. He hated that he was putting the others at risk by simply being here, it was a naïve sentiment to think that he would be safe from direct attacks such as these given that he was literally surrounded by superheroes. 

Using the butt of a pistol he had lifted off of one of the soldiers he knocked the last of the agents on his floor out, leaving behind him a trail of destruction and property damage that the Hulk would be proud of. Checking the stairway for more enemy agents Bucky silently and swiftly made his way up to where he could hear more fighting. 

Coming to a stop on the gym level Bucky swings the door open slightly to find absolute chaos, with at least seven agents all trying their best to get one over on Ironman, who looked like he had already taken his fair share of hits. As he pushes the door open wider it meets resistance in the form of an already fallen agent and while Ironman seems to be able to hold his own just fine, Bucky feels he owes him a little help given that the man has provided him free room and board for the last three months with so much as a thank you. 

The agent in question who is blocking the door is easily pushed out of the way, rolling onto his front as Bucky uses more force than strictly necessary to move him. As he rolls over Bucky spies as tranq gun, probably intended for him and/or Steve, picking it up he quickly picks off two of the now five agents remaining sanding. 

Bucky notices something odd about their formation, namely two of them seem to be protecting the third, ensuring that Ironman is too distracted by them to pay their friend any attention. While it was entirely possible they were doing this out of some misplayed loyalty to a higher ranking agent, there was no significant marking that Bucky could see to set him apart from the other two, unless a slightly bulkier jacket counted. 

As he reloads the tranq Ironman quickly takes care of the two more exposed agents, leaving only the third, now cowering behind the shelves of weights. Ironman approaches cautiously with his repulsers up, but he’s at the wrong angle to see what Bucky does. The agent pulls from his pocket a detonator but before Bucky can shout warning the former leaps at the golden avenger with a yell of “Hail Hydra”. 

Bucky is throw back by the force of the explosion, though his landing is relatively soft thanks to the training mats that had been behind him. His ears were ringing and his vision blurry, but he knew not to panic, it would be over soon enough, his healing factor was good with this sort of thing, he knows from experience. 

As the dust clears and he gets to his feet he sees that Tony’s landing was not nearly as soft as his own, the man had been thrown violently into the wall, with one of the weights that had been on the shelf the Hydra agent was hiding behind embedded into to concrete inches from his head. Ironman himself appeared to be staring at it, the faceplate lifting up as he gave a half snort. 

“Shit that was a close-”

Bucky froze for two reasons, the first being that holy shit, Tony Stark aka Ironman was saying his words. The second reason was the same reason for Tony cutting himself off mid-sentence, as they had both at that moment realised that there was a large piece of rebar currently sticking out of his stomach, having found one of the weaker sections of the layered armour around his torso, impaling him. 

“Oh Fuck.”

Bucky wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The way Tony had uttered those words, like he had just accidentally spilled his drink down his shirt instead of the terrified or pained tone one would have expected of someone who may very likely bleed out. without realising he was moving at all, Bucky was suddenly in front of Tony, ripping bent metal away from the exit point of the rebar. 

Pulling off his shirt he uses it to apply pressure around the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, though it won’t be much use as the entry wound is likely just as bad. He can feel the tears building and blurring his sight, he knew those words would be a curse in the end. His breath hitches as he tried to suppress a sob, not realising the words that are so thoughtlessly spilling from his own mouth. 

“No, no, no. Please God, no.” 

He presses harder and calls out as loud as he can, desperate for anyone to find them, for help to come. He doesn’t know if Jarvis is still online or if they were able to take him out during the attack, he had to hope they had not, or else the team may not find them until it was too late. 

His hands were jiggling up and down softly and Bucky turned back to Tony in confusion, the man was giggling, he must have lost enough blood already to have become slightly delirious because there was nothing funny about their current situation. 

“You don’t hate me, do you?” Tony asked, his eyes drooping and his mouth turned up in a hysterical smile.  
Bucky was confused, where on earth would he get that assumption from? I mean, yes technically he had not spoken to the man in the three months he had lived here, and he tended to avoid him as much as possible, but he did that with most of the tower’s residents, it wasn’t targeted at Tony.  
“No?” he replied, confused.  
“Okay, good. I don't hate you either, just so you know, in case-” Tony began, though his voice faded as the sentence progressed and his eyelids lowered.  
“NO! Tony, please. You have to stay awake,” he pleaded, shouting once more for help. “I only just found you, don’t leave me.” 

 

~~~~~~

 

The medbay, holding no weaponry or confidential information other than the Avenger’s allergies, had not been a high priority target and so had been left mostly untouched by the fight, discounting one corner where part of the ceiling had caved in from the brawl on the floor above. 

Thankfully, as soon as the attack had started Jarvis had sent out a warning signal, meaning Shield had sent a few agents of their own for the clearing up duties as well as medics, anticipating the need for them.  
Tony was quickly transferred into their care after having the rebar cut so that he was no longer attached to the gym wall. He was taken almost immediately into the small surgery they had there, with Bucky reluctant to leave his side, though he had been handled out of the way easily in the dazed state that had fallen over him. 

The others had arrived shortly after demanding explanations and answers. Bucky couldn’t seem to do anything though, he was paralysed staring at the doors his soulmate had been taken through. Exasperated with his unresponsiveness, Natasha flagged down a nurse, getting her to give them the full account of the injuries and what was going on. 

He didn’t know how long he was standing there for, or if the others were saying anything to him, at least not until Steve blocked his line of sight, forcing Bucky to tear his eyes from the last spot he had seen Tony to look up at Steve’s own battered face. His brow was creased with worry and he looked like he was about to say something but Bucky cut him off. 

“He said my words.” It was almost a whisper, but Steve would have heard. Swallowing he repeated, slight louder this time. “He said my words.”

Steve’s face was one of utter shock before crumbling into something Bucky assumed his own face must look. He wanted nothing more right now than to fall into Steve’s arms and cry. Unfortunately for him, Rhodes had other ideas. 

The other man grabbed his shoulder, pulling him round slightly to stare him in the face as his fist came flying forwards, smashing into Bucky’s nose. It was unexpected and painful, though Bucky couldn’t help but feel it would have been more so for the Colonel’s hand that his face. 

Steve and the others jumped into action, despite not knowing what the conflict between the two James’s was, they pulled the two apart and stood between them to avoid more fists flying. 

“What the-” Steve began, though he was cut off by Rhodes’s own shout.

“Fuck you, man. You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut or choose anything else to say?” 

Bucky opened his mouth but had no idea what to say to that, what was it that he had said? He couldn’t even remember all he could see when he tried to recall was the bloodied smile Tony had given him right before closing his eyes. 

“What did you say, Buck?” Steve asked lowly. 

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know…” he stared at Steve’s worried frown, though he wasn’t sure who Steve was more worried for at this point. 

Rhodes grabbed the nearest thing he could find, a box of bandages and lobbed it at Bucky’s head, though in his anger his aim was off and it ended up flying over Bucky’s shoulder. “How does ‘No, no, no. Please God, no.’ sound?” he spat venomously. 

Bucky stomach dropped and he felt his knees buckle, only able to stay upright from Steve quick reflexes. The other Avengers all looked just as horrified as he felt, a collective gasp heard from them. 

Oh, god what had he done?

“Yeah that’s right. He’s had to carry those words around for most of his life. Do you know how awful it was for him? Feeling like his soulmate despised him even before they had met? Do you know what it does to a person to wake up every morning and see those words greet him as a reminder of the fact that he is supposedly not good enough? A disappointment? A burden?” 

With ever word Bucky hated himself more and more, the shame that twisted in his gut for his carelessness made him feel he may throw up. Nope, it wasn’t just a feeling he actually was going to throw up. 

Steve and Natasha pulled him into one of the private rooms to clean him up, taking him away from Rhodes and his deathly glares and scathing remarks. 

“I fucked up, Stevie. I really really fucked up.” he sobbed, curling in on himself. 

The blond set him down on one of the beds, almost pulling the sobbing man into his lap as he held him close and tried to sooth him. How could Bucky ever ask forgiveness for his stupidity and carelessness. He couldn’t, it was as simple as that. He had done something monstrous to his soulmate, and now the poor man was stuck with him, a ex-Hydra assassin who was not only responsible for Tony’s parents’ deaths, but he was also the one who forced Tony to live under the impression that the one person in the world who was supposed to stick by him through thick and thin, hated him. 

 

~~~~~~

 

He doesn’t know how long they stayed in that room for, he hadn’t even noticed when Natasha left until she was coming back in. 

“He’s out of surgery now, and stable. He’s lucky, it didn’t do any damage to his major organs and though he lost a lot of blood and is very weak right now, they say he should recover fully. He won’t wake up for the next 48 hours at least though, so you should go and get some sleep.” She informed them in a slightly detached manner the Bucky recognised as her trying to keep a tab on her emotions, the twitch of her fingers gave away how nervous and worried she really was.

Steve moved first, untangling himself from Bucky and stretching his legs out. He turned back, eyebrow raised questioningly when Bucky himself didn’t move off of the cot. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay close by tonight. I’ll sleep here, I just don’t think I could go back to our floor right now.” He croaked, his throat sore from crying.

“Anything you need, buddy.” Steve smiled encouragingly, grasping his shoulder before he turned to Natasha and left. 

Bucky sat frozen in the same position on the cot, lost in deep thought with no way to gage the time passing. Eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore and got up, following the faint sound of beeping to find the room where Tony now slept. 

He looked so small and still in amongst the machines that surrounded him. It was almost too much, but if anything Bucky wanted just one last look. He stepped further into the room, careful once he noticed a sleeping Rhodes in the chair on the right of the bed. Moving round to the left, Bucky reached out placing a gentle hand on Tony’s head. Leaning down, Bucky gently pressed his lips to the pale forehead before retreating, feeling firm in his decision. 

He was not wanted here and though. Yes, Steve would be devastated for a while but he had built himself a family here, he had found friends and his own soulmate. Steve would be fine. What he had done to Tony though, that was unforgivable and having to put up with a man so broken such as himself was yet another burden he had no wish to enforce upon such a kind and caring man. Tony didn’t deserve to be pulled down by Bucky again, so Bucky would set him free. If Rhodes’s reaction was anything to go by, he doubted he would be sorely missed anyhow. 

Taking a last look, Bucky steeled himself and began towards the stairs (he had no idea if the elevators were even working and on the off chance they were, he had no wish to face what would doubtlessly be an enraged Jarvis).

“Don’t you dare take another step towards that door.”

Bucky froze as he heard Natasha’s voice over his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard her approaching which, as the former Winter Soldier, was quite worrying. On the other hand it was quite complimentary of his skills as a teacher, the student becomes the master and all that. 

Turning to face the fuming redhead Bucky takes a deep breath to begin to explain himself. 

“No. No excuses, I don’t care what you have to say. What I do care about is my teammate and right now he is on that hospital bed , deeply injured. What Rhodey said was true, they are very…regrettable first words, but that doesn’t mean he’ll reject you. Even if he does, you forced him to live with that on his skin his whole life, don’t you think you own him the privilege of throwing you out himself?” 

Looking at his feet in shame Bucky gives a solemn nod. 

“Good, now get in there. He’ll want to see you when he wakes.” 

His stomach is rolling and knotting, his feet feel heavier than they’ve ever been as he makes his way to Tony’s bedside. Pulling another chair from the corner of the room, he sets it on the opposite side to the one where Rhodey sits. Smiling to himself he thinks of what a good pair they already make, with the most loyal of best friends who would do anything to keep the other safe and their very own terrifying redheaded women who help keep them in check. 

Maybe, just maybe, they could get through this.


	2. Tony's Words

It was three days after his sixth birthday when he felt the first itch of the words, his collarbone started to feel funny and when he scratched it, it didn’t go away. He ran into the bathroom to take a look, worried he might be getting chicken pox again even though his Mamma had said it’s rare to get it twice. 

Standing up on his tippy-toes Tony tried to glance at what it was that was bothering him so, though the edge of the bathtub was probably not the safest vantage point. In fact he only just managed to glimpse the dark scrawl of words before his balance was toppled and he slid hitting his bottom on the hard, cold tile. 

Bitting back tears, Stark men were made of Iron after all, Tony took a pause to catch his breath before realising what the newly inked markings meant. His soulmate’s first words to him! 

Deciding the edge of the bathtub was too high risk to attempt for a second time, Tony began running once more, this time in the direction he had last seen his Mamma. 

“Tony, darling, what’s got you so excited, hm?” His mother smiled down at him, reaching out her arms to draw him into a hug.   
Tony beamed, pulling the neck of his t-shirt down to expose his words. “Look Mamma! What do they say?” 

Maria’s face transformed, her once bright smile turned into a deeply furrowed brow her arms dropped as tears began to gather in her eyes.   
“Oh, Tony.” She sobbed, turning from the confused child and grasping for the glass of wine that was never far from her reach.   
Tony tried to call for her again but it just made his mother’s crying worse. 

Growing worried and desperate Tony took off again, this time to the kitchen where he thrust one of the chairs up against the counter and clambering up so that he could use the microwave oven as a mirror. 

 

Anna found him curled up upon the chair with a tear stained face and bloodshot eyes after almost an hour.

“What’s this? Why are you crying, Anthony?” She asked, though Tony didn’t even think about answering, instead he flung himself towards her, grateful that she was quick enough to catch him. “Shh, shh now. Everything will be alright.” she soothed, stroking a hand down his back in a way she knew calmed him, only this time it wouldn’t be enough. He buried his face in her neck and refused to let go of the iron grip he had upon her dress.

It wasn’t long before Jarvis found them and shortly after, he managed to coax Tony into revealing what had both him and his mother so upset.   
“My s-soulmate h-hates me.” is all he manages to stutter before the tears well up once more and the sobs being wracking his body. Both Anna and Jarvis stare at the words then each other in silence, frozen in shock. After having one of their conversations that only happened in small nods and widening eyes that always used to make Tony giggle and stare in fascination at how in sync the two were, Jarvis took ahold of Tony and began preparing hot coco one handed with the boy tucked on his hip while Anna set about preparing some of the leftover chocolate fondant gateau that Tony so loved. 

Sitting curled between the two who were almost second parents to Tony, he began to feel- if not happy then at least relived; even if his soulmate didn’t want him, Jarvis and Anna did. Unfortunately for the young boy, they were not his parents, and Howard didn’t take too kindly to the news of Tony’s words. 

Having found out from his hysterical wife what had been etched on his son’s body for the world to see Howard became enraged, a temper that was not calmed by seeing his son crying and been fed desserts.   
“Get up boy, show them to me.” He growled, ignoring Jarvis’s pleas. “You listen here, we Starks are made of Iron, do you hear me. That means no more tears, or any of this nonsense.” Tony had trembled under the weight of his father’s glare and harsh tone. “No one wants a crybaby for a soulmate, perhaps if you concentrated more and and spent more time on your education and less time with your toys they wouldn’t hate the idea of being tied to you for life, hm? Get to it.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Tony tried to do as his father said, focusing more on how to improve himself so that perhaps his soulmate wouldn’t be quite so horrified to have him as their’s. It doesn’t stop the crushing sadness he feels overtime he sees them. Nor does it stop the pitying looks he gets from Anna and Jarvis, even though they try not to do it to his face. 

The worst part is his Mamma though, she used to sing to him when he had a nightmare and play when he got time off his studies. Sometimes when she was having a bad day they would walk through the gardens or just sit and she’d run her hand through his hair. 

Now though, his Mamma would cry if she ever saw the words. He had to wear sweaters and scarves even during the summer so she wouldn’t get upset and leave him alone again. As soon as he could, Tony went out and bought makeup to cover them up and hide them so that no one would have to see them. 

It helped some, his mother could spend more than an hour at a time with him now, though sometimes he would catch her looking at where they were under the layers of concealer and forced himself to bury his shame as he attempted to distract her from them. 

The first time Howard saw the makeup Tony stood petrified of what he might say. Much to his relief he was met with a grunt and a nod. “Don’t let anyone know what they are, the company may suffer for it and I won’t have that, you hear?” 

 

~~~~~~

 

It was difficult being the son of a millionaire and the only heir to a billion dollar company, not only was he subject to the scrutiny of the press, he was forced to attend many galas and events where everyone and anyone would try to get close enough to say something to him. Some of them where more subtle than others, often on the street the most random or frankly disturbing things were shouted at him in an attempt to test if they could perhaps be Tony Stark’s soulmate. At these galas however, people would flock and almost trip over themselves to find a way to butt in on the conversation or introduce themselves in a way that would not appear too weirdly outlandish but different enough from the norm that it would be obvious should Tony have their words. 

It was exhausting to say the least and downright depressing as Tony could see the eager spark in all of their eyes as they waited for a reaction from him, only to be disappointed by his reply. Sometimes he would find it funny to see, his own soulmate may not like him but there were plenty of others who would kill to have him, or rather his fame and fortune but same difference, right?

In the end Tony gave up on being faithful to his soulmate, a concept that was not often seen around anymore anyway. It was hardly like the person, whomever they were, would be upset by him not being a virgin, they hated him anyway so why not have some fun before the misery began. 

He took comfort in others bed’s, even if it were only for one night. Even if they only did it for the bragging rights or they 15 minutes of fame, though given Tony’s growing reputation as a playboy it was becoming less 15 and more 5 if even that. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Rhodey is the first person other than his family to see the words. It was by a mistake that would forever change his relationship with the other.   
MIT is not the safest of places for young boy geniuses, especially those with a penchant for alcoholic drinks and very low inhibition. As such, when James Rhodes sees an extremely drunk and very vulnerable Tony he takes him by the arm and escorts him swiftly away from all the other bad influences who think that downing as much alcohol as possible in small amounts of time is a great achievement. 

He had interacted with the other boy a couple of times before, he could say they were classmates and there was the potential for friendship, if only Tony was not such a conceited and egotistical ass. But Rhodes or as he was shortly about to become known as, Rhodey, had been brought up right so when he saw the sixteen year old and realised just how much he had had to drink, his conscience and upbringing refused to allow him to walk by and do nothing. 

It took a while for him to manage to get Tony back to the dorm rooms where he was living, just one floor up from where Rhodes was himself. He struggled to climb the stairs while supporting the younger boy, having had a few drinks himself it was not easy and it would be safe to assume there would be more than a few bruises in the morning.

Tony had been insistent that he could unlock his door himself, but after too many misses at getting the key into the lock, Rhodes helped to hold his hand stead and guide it in (he would have done it himself but Tony would not let go of the key). 

Sitting him down on the bed, Rhodes was about to get him a glass of water when he hears the retching. The poor kid had spewed all over himself and silently cursing himself and his inability to walk away, Rhodey took Tony to the tiny bathroom and helped to undress him, though he left the other’s boxers on. Grabbing the washcloth and shower gel Rhodes begins to help wipe off the vomit though Tony tries to bat his arm away instantly when he begins scrubbing down his chest. 

It was then that Rhodey saw the peachy-orange colour that the cloth was being stained by, realising that he had just rubbed off some makeup Rhodes’s eyes couldn’t help but to flit to where he had just scrubbed, seeing the words tattooed there. 

 

Over the next few days Rhodes tried to approach Tony when he was alone but the other boy seemed to sense he was coming and flee or immerse himself in a large crowd. At first he couldn’t understand why until he caught the genius’s eye and saw the fear and dread within them. Tony expected him to use the information he had so clearly kept secret against him, he had deduced that the only reason why Rhodes would want to interact with him would be for blackmail, though Rhodes could hardly blame the guy for being cynical, he had seen how the guy’s soulmate felt about him and that would be enough to make anyone bitter. 

It was just his luck that Tony was such a hard worker though, he knew the engineer worked tirelessly on his thesis project whenever he wasn’t out partying or trying to make himself out to be god’s gift to women. 

As he stepped into the lab that Tony had booked out for the next 48 hours he saw the other’s shoulders tense as he hunched over his work, trying to avoid looking at Rhodes at all costs. 

“Fuck them, Tony. If they can’t see your worth then they don’t deserve you. You are the kindest and gentlest not to mention smartest person I know.” 

“Kind and gentle?” Tony scoffed, as if anyone would describe him as such. 

“I’ve seen the way you coo over the stray cats around campus, and the way you talk to that…thing” Rhodes nodded his head towards the clawed robot that the boy in question was constructing. “Whatever.” Tony dismissed, before adding petulantly “And his name is DUM-E.” 

“Wow. You really gonna call him that?”   
“Nah, it’s just a nickname, I’ll portably change it when the time comes to present him to the world.”   
“That’s a really shitty nickname.” Tony looked to be offended at that, as though his ability to give nicknames was one of his prides. “Like, your name is Tony, right, so a nickname for you would be something like Tones.” He tried to explain, though now he thought about it there wasn’t really much logic to nicknames.   
“Okay well, all you did there was add the last part of your name to the first part of mine, so by that logic your nickname would be Jamesy or Rhodey.” Tony quipped back before perking up. “Huh, actually I kinda like that. Alright Rhodey, wanna go get some breakfast doughnuts?”  
“Tones, It’s eleven O’clock at night.” 

It became a thing between them, and as the years passed more and more ridiculous nicknames appeared, and though he would never admit to liking them, Rhodey never once asked him to stop. 

 

~~~~~~

 

What an idiot he had been. What a selfish dickhead. How could he not have realised that this was going on? How could he be so ignorant as to not check up on where it was his weapons were going, who they were being handed to?

As he sits staring at the rippling water the noses and shouts around him continue but he’s in too much of a daze in his own mind to pay attention. Maybe this is why his soulmate hates him. He hates himself too, at least they have that in common. 

His head clears for just a moment, long enough to hear someone say ‘Jericho’ and his mouth replies without him having to think; “No.” 

As he’s pushed back down into the water his lungs begin to sear in pain again. It was difficult enough to breathe what with the car battery and the large hole in his chest, the ice cold water didn’t make it any better. The exhaustion that was weighting him down, his struggles to reach the surfaces were getting weaker and weaker. His eyes began drifting closed and as he succumbed to the peacefulness that he had heard others say washed over you when drowning, one last though drifted to him. 

Maybe he deserved all of this. 

 

~~~~~~

Yinsen’s death had struck him. Hard. 

“Don’t waste your life.” his last words, and Tony was damned sure he was going to honour them. 

He became Iron Man, then he became an Avenger. Some people saw him as a hero, other’s couldn’t seem to see more than his past, but it didn’t matter to him anymore. At least not all of it mattered, because yes he had turned his life around and he was having lives instead of helping to destroy them. And yes, he had found a strange sort of family in his teammates and an easy camaraderie with the others that seemed to trail behind, Coulson and Sam as well as Jane and her gang (especially Darcy, though he was glad he din’t have her first words to him ‘what’s up, sexybutt?’).

So what if there were people who didn’t approve of his new lifestyle? So what if people accused him of still being reckless and egotistical? So what if it didn’t matter how hard he tried or how much of himself he put into helping others and saving the world? Because there was one thing that years of research and evidence could tell you about soul marks, it’s that they don’t change. 

So what if his soulmate still hated him?

 

~~~~~~

The pain was burning through him, he felt hot and cold at the same time and the odd wet stickiness whenever he shifted from the blood that almost seemed to be pouring into the crevices of his suit. That would be a pain to clean. 

Barnes was trying to stem the blood flow but there was little he could do to stop it. Tony had been close to dying a surprising number of times in his life, by now he was fairly used to it. He was tempted to just give in this time, the pain was excruciating enough that he would rather it stopped as quickly as possible, then he heard it. 

 

 

“No, no, no. Please God, no.”

 

The words cut through the fog of pain and the delirium of his thoughts, and suddenly he couldn't help but laugh at how cruelly ironic his words were. 

 

“You don’t hate me, do you?” How incredibly unfair is it that the words never meant what he had thought they did, they weren’t cries of hate but pleas.  
“No?” 

And just when he meets his soulmate, when he is finally given the peace of knowing that he isn’t hated, he gets to enjoy it for a bare few minutes before his death. 

 

“Okay, good. I don't hate you either, just so you know, in case-” Tony felt his limbs grow weaker. 

 

He was struggling to keep his eyes open though he knew somewhere in the fog of his mind he should. 

 

“NO! Tony, plea-”

 

 

He didn't hear anything else, the world had gone black. 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~

Tony felt warm. Abnormally warm. But it wasn’t a full body warmth, just patches of warm. Specifically one on his upper left thigh and one on his upper right arm. It was kind of uncomfortably warm really. 

Opening his eyes, he see the top of a head, resting where the warm patch on his arm is. 

“Honeybear,” He smiles softly as the Honeybear in question shoots up to look at him.   
“Tony, are you alright? Are you in pain? Do you need water? Can-”  
“Shhh, you’re being loud.” Tony whines, his voice gruff with disuse. 

It was then that he realised the warmth from his leg had disappeared, and curious he looked down to the end of the bed where a certain super soldier looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Hey you.” Tony began, leading to a coughing fit. Rhodey helped to sit him up properly, easing the difficulty he had in breathing, though a sharp pain came from where there would no doubt be a new load of hideous scarring. 

Rhodey looked between the two soulmates, still not entirely please with Bucky, but after sending the coldest glare his way, he turned back to Tony. 

“You’ve been unconscious for nearly three days, so you better go slowly. Don’t make me bring Steve and Pepper down, ‘cause I will.” With that he turned and headed towards the door. “I’ll be back in seven minuets with ice chips.” 

Bucky looked even more uncomfortable now that the one who had been giving him death glares was gone. 

“I…” he began, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, for- for what I said. And I understand if you’d rather I leave. Steve still has his place in DC and I don’t even have that much to pack so I can be gone as soon-”

“I don’t want you to go.” 

Bucky’s form that had become tenser and more and more curled in on himself with each word, shivered. His blue eyes looking up from the curtain of his hair. 

 

“I don’t want you to go.” Tony repeated, firmer this time, though his voice was still scratchy as hell. 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, a tentative hope blossoming.  
“Yeah.” Tony nodded. 

Suddenly the chair that the solider was sat on was much closer, and Tony’s arm was now clasped between Bucky’s own, the back of his hand pressed against the other’s forehead.   
“I really didn’t want to go.” he huffed out in a half laugh, half sob. 

 

~~~~~~

 

Bucky was feeling slightly drowsy from his position laying across one of the plush red love-seats Tony had insisted on having installed in the tower’s home cinema, to think that he tried to claim Bucky was the cuddlier of the two. He settled down, eyes drifting closed somewhat against his will to the sounds of his teammates shushing one another as the lights dimmed and the movie began. 

He had no idea what the movie was, nor was he terribly interested, what he wanted the most right now was some rest. Of course, the universe could not let him have his moment’s peace (the universe otherwise known as Tony). Bucky curled in on himself with a heavy ‘oouuf’ gaining him more than a few glares and several ‘shh’s as his soulmate plopped down on him. 

Settling back down so that he was half lying with his head and shoulders propped up on the arm of the love-seat he pulled Tony closer so that they lay chest to back. Tony, the little menace that he is decided that he had to shuffle around just a bit more, using his elbows (much to Bucky’s regret) in order to move himself about. Finally settled he pulls the popcorn bowl closer and lays his head on Bucky’s shoulder, in this position Bucky can see the tail end of his words, peeking out from the V of Tony’s henley. 

Reaching over his shoulder, Bucky brushes a thumb over where he knows the words are, his brow pinching as he thinks of what an idiot he had been that day. 

“Hey, babe?” Tony whispers, tilting his head up, “You’re missing the beginning, it’s very important to the rest of the story you know.” he teases in a matter-of-fact way that causes a smile to pull at Bucky’s lips.   
“I know, I just wish-” he starts, the guilt he can never quite shake evident in his voice.  
“You wish I didn’t have your words?” Tony began in the smallest voice Bucky had ever heard, “I knew it was too good to be true, I knew you didn’t want me.” the genius curls in on himself as Bucky begins to panic.   
“No, no that’s not what I said, not what I was thinking at all. Tony you know I love you.” he tries, pulling the smaller man closer to him. 

Tony uncurls and gives him a pointed look, the tears that had been close to shedding just moments ago where gone. “Good. Then you’ll be just as glad as I am that I do have your words.” the matter-of-fact voice is back, but it’s no longer teasing just plain forwardness. “No matter what the words say, no matter how ‘regrettable’ they are or whatever the fuck else Nat wants to call them, they are yours, which makes me yours. And you are mine. I won’t ever regret that.” 

Bucky smiled in fond exasperation, while their relationship was still relatively new, the genius knew how to play him so well (he suspects Steve may have been giving Tony classes). Pressing his lips to Tony’s temple Bucky settles down once more, trying valiantly to keep his eyes open. His last thought before finally drifting off was that Tony was right; he could never regret having this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and now go appreciate the fantastic art! (and all the other bangs in the Winteriron collection)
> 
> PS I know I haven't quite proofread it yet so do tell me if there are any glaring mistakes.


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